Half Birthday

Today is Baby B’s half-birthday! He’s officially 18 months old, definitely a toddler, and I can’t believe in just 6 months he’ll be two. Hopefully it won’t be “terrible.”

This milestone has me thinking back on the past year and a half and how wonderful this whole parenting adventure has been. To celebrate his half-birthday, here’s a look back at baby B’s first year:

At 18 months, Baby B likes running, talking, puzzles, cars, trains, telling jokes, Mickey Mouse, anything with buttons, sports class, and so much more!

He dislikes: naps, being interrupted while playing, and thunderstorms.

Top Chef: Toddler Edition

Though cooking has never been my strong suit, I’m a big fan of cooking shows. Watching those shows I’ve learned many things: how to sneak veggies into Mac and cheese, what zest is and why it’s apparently necessary on everything, and I’ve heard many times that you’re never too young to start participating in the kitchen.

I’m here to tell you what many same parents already know: that last part is false. 17 months old, is too young to participate in the kitchen.

After watching Daphne Oz make sweet potato brownies on The Chew I received the vegetable in my weekly box from the farmers market. “Perfect!” I thought. “Oh, what fun it would be to make these with Toddler B!” Clearly I was delusional at the time.

I got my ingredients and chased him down, plopped him standing on a chair so he could reach the counter where I’d carefully laid out the mixing bowl and a measured cup of flour. I reached to guide his little hand but he quickly took his other hand and started patting the flour aggressively, watching it fly and puff all over his shirt and the floor. Just as I started to clean it, he saw the canister of cocoa powder. Who knew he could open cocoa powder? By now the dog was intrigued at the prospect of flying ingredients and I was scrambling to do damage control. I snatched the mixing bowl, cocoa powder and removed the eggs from his reach before it was too late. In my haste to create a distraction to buy time, I gave him a smaller bowl and poured in a few spoonfuls of the next ingredient I happened to be holding. Brown sugar.

There I was, less than 5 minutes in, covered in flour and cocoa powder, scraping ingredients off the counter as my son stood next to me happily shoving handfuls of brown sugar directly into his mouth.

At least he was occupied long enough for me to finish the mix. The “sweet potato brownies” turned out to taste pretty good despite the fact that none of the measurements were precise. Not even close. And yes, I fed them to my toddler even though he’d just eaten who-know-how-much straight brown sugar.

As I said, cooking has never been my strong suit. But, at least the food critics in this house are easy to please!

Learning a New Language

Anyone can attest, it’s challenging to learn a new language. That’s why I can empathize with B’s frustration when he struggles to find a word or communicate when he wants something and we just aren’t getting it. The empathy isn’t hard to find because I’m learning a new language right now too. I’m learning toddler.

When I hear him speak, I am constantly doing translations in my head. “mik” = milk, “upease” = up please or open, “puppy” = basically anything with four legs. Including actual puppies. Imagine what it would be like to hold a conversation with a Minion.

It’s been one of my favorite parts of parenting so far to see this new language sink in for him. The other day we were discussing the difference between objects that were heavy or light. I was using blocks and toy cars as examples, and the next day he picked up a full bucket and said, “heavy.” It was amazing to see him completely catch the concept so quickly!
A few times we’ve even been pleasantly surprised when he speaks in full sentences. While outside one day, Drew said “it’s hot.” and B replied without hesitation in agreement, “it is hot.” He copies our vocabulary, tone and context, whether it’s “okey okey” after his Lola says “okey dokey!” or “Bye! Tank you coming!” “bye, thank you for coming!” as he opens the door for an exiting guest.
Not everything he says is so clear. When I introduced blueberries, he suddenly found his new favorite food and demanded them by name. That’s when I learned, “boobies” = blueberries. After trying to catch this adorable pronunciation on video and running out of blueberries, I found myself at the store the next day buying more. But, B wanted to eat them as soon as he saw them. Needless to say, I had to run out of Target holding a tantruming toddler who was screaming for “boobies” at the top of his lungs.
I guess I don’t need to catch it on camera, because I’ll probably remember that moment forever.

Independence

Baby B is definitely Toddler B, with the skinned knees and growing sense of independence that comes with it. He had a wonderful couple of weeks showing off his vocabulary, dance skills, and overall silliness with our family during our vacation back East!

First, Grammy, (B’s great-grandmother,) traveled to Arizona, where we beat the heat visiting museums, swimming, and playing in the playroom. We had a wonderful time!

Then it was off to Virginia to celebrate the 4th of July with this adorable little firecracker (B’s new cousin) and her twin sisters!

It was great to enjoy a parade, barbecue, and festival outdoors for the 4th, remembering how I’d celebrated the holiday growing up. Arizona’s summer months are sweltering, and it’s impossible to spend it outside before the fireworks start without a pool to cool off! B loved every second of it. So much in fact, that he didn’t nap at all (no matter how hard we tried) until the middle of the fireworks show. That’s right, the middle of the loud, entertaining, sparkling show… he finally had enough excitement.

At 17 months, B likes talking, dancing, eating cookies or blueberries, cars, trucks, planes, trains, reading books, watching Chuggington, giving hugs, playing with his cousins, and so much more!

He dislikes naps, waiting, and sharing.

Dogs Vs. Toddlers

We are lucky enough to have the most patient, docile, laid-back dog in the world. Max is about 7 years old according to staff at the animal shelter, and he joined our family just one year before Baby B. He and B get along very well when Max isn’t getting his tail pulled, his eyes poked or chased around the room.  Some would say they’re best friends, but they’re more than that. They’re brothers.
Like most brothers, they get into mischief, learn from each other and they have a lot in common. All traits that are endearing when I watch B share his snack with Max, alternating crackers between them while they sit together on the playroom floor. Other times their relationship surprises me, like the time I walked into the kitchen to see B with his arm wedged into the supposedly child-proof cabinet where we keep the dog treats, taking them out one by one and putting them into Max’s open mouth. Max took the blame for that one. After all, he’s older. He should know better than to exploit the opposable thumbs of the easily influenced. And, on occassion, I am downright appalled by the example Max sets for our 16-month-old son.
We recently started to introduce the concept of the “potty” to B, just to get him familiar with the concept. We sit him down on the potty after waking up in the morning or from naps, talk about poopie until he wants to get down and then let him flush the nothing down the toilet while we wonder if we anything we’re doing is anything close to what other people do to potty train. B has since shown he understands the word “potty” and “poopie,” so I guess we’re doing something right.
During a recent test of this knowledge, however, when asked if he needed to go potty while we were playing outside at a water table, B said, “no” and walked away. I wasn’t convinced, so I asked about poopie and he said “no” again. Then, he immediately walked to the middle of the backyard where he’s seen Max “poopie” on several occassions, squatted down like a dog, and took a dump right there.
I’d really rather my son take bathroom habits from human beings, but I guess you can’t help what a child absorbs and ignores. At least he’s not trying to eat dirty diapers, something I’ve caught Max doing way too many times for it to not be embarrassing, even for a dog.
It was another one of Max’s transgressions that really got me thinking about toddlers and dogs. We were all in our bedroom when I heard a noise from the kitchen one afternoon and I went running to stop Max from doing whatever he was doing once I realized he was unaccounted for. That’s when I caught him, wrapper in mouth, starting to chow down on a brand new, entire loaf of bread he’d gotten off the counter. There were bite marks in the bread and bits of plastic all over the living room.
It was then that I realized… if the culprit hadn’t been in the room at the time of my discovery, I really wouldn’t have known who to blame.

 

 

Shut up and Dance

For as long as I can remember, I’ve loved to dance. One of my earliest memories is Walking Like an Egyptian during a family get together. I took ballet in elementary school, joined the dance team during high school, took hip hop classes and taught swing dance in college and beyond. Dancing might run in the family. Despite what Drew would have most people believe, it runs in both sides for Baby B.

It’s not just in the genes, it’s environmental. I went to the live performance of So You Think You Can Dance at 8 months pregnant. We’ve been known to have the occasional morning dance party at the house. Toddler B is the son of two former musicians, rhythm runs in the family. It’s no wonder this boy loves to move it. A couple of weeks ago he heard Michael Jackson in the other room and ran so fast, he completely wiped out in the hallway, picked himself up and started dancing. Now that’s a born performer.

Over the course of his short life so far, he has accumulated quite the lengthy repertoire. Every time he surprises us with a new move we try to catch it on camera. Here’s a quick compilation of Baby B’s evolution of dance:
 

Water Water Everywhere

Baby B is now 15 months old and already has three cross-country trips under his belt. That’s what happens when half of your loved ones live on the East Coast. Luckily, he’s a good traveler. This time, it was a joy to see the wonder in his eyes as the plane started moving and took off. I could tell he knew we were in that “ay pane” that we point to “up in the sky” so often in our yard, and that we were now up in the sky. He smiled during take-off and took a nice nap during the ride.

This time our destination was Florida. Having lived there for three years and Drew having grown up there, it’s surprising to me what a shock it is the way we both feel after touch down. Getting off the plane, you can taste the humidity. Driving around, we pointed out the window at all of the water, the boats, the bridges. “Water! Look water!” You’d think we’d been dying of thirst out here in the desert.

We had a wonderful trip seeing family and friends. Watching these three adorable cousins hang out together, going to the zoo with his Godfather, getting in a tickle fight with Auntie Heather, and helping Uncle Steve and Auntie Morgan get engaged were just some of the highlights!

We managed to avoid most of the rain while staying at the beach, but boy did we forget about Florida’s afternoon showers. We spent plenty of time swimming, splashing, getting sunburned (ok, just me) and soaking up all the water we could. But, it is nice to be back home in Arizona, the true sunshine state.

At 15 months, Baby B likes:
chasing the dog with his car, eating everything in sight, choosing a book to read for bedtime, dancing, babbling and repeating words, spinning in circles, roughhousing, and much more.

He diskiles:
Being told no.  (where did he get that?)

Juggling

Baby B never stops moving. During his waking hours he literally never stops. The only reason I’m writing these few sentences right now is because he’s toddling around next to me preoccupied with my husband’s camera bag full of gadgets. Husband, consider this my apology for everything he is doing with said gadgets.


As Baby B (now toddler B) grows in height, mobility and curiosity, my multitasking skills are being put to the test. As a former news reporter, those skills were already pretty advanced. As a current working mom with a spouse who works nights, I surprise myself every day with my ability to grow new arms (which I assume must be happening because I don’t know how else things are getting accomplished) as I eat dinner, wash dishes, start a bath, remove chocking hazards from a toddler’s hands and let the dog out all simultaneously. Yes, the choking hazard was dog food. Sometimes we need all the help we can get.

Thankfully, we are getting that from our family that lives just a neighborhood away and I am eternally grateful (and I’m pretty sure I owe them about a thousand babysitting hours.) Last week, I was also grateful to have an extra set of hands from my mom while she visited us on vacation, enjoying our beautiful weather, and our beautiful boy.

We took this adorable zoo selfie during one of our many Phoenix-area outings.  We had a wonderful time! Now, this circus is headed to the East Coast to have more fun in the sun at the beach! Stay tuned.

Snow Day

I know all of you East-Coasters are so sick of snow storms, you probably never want to hear the words “milk, bread and toilet paper” ever again. I remember having to scrape ice off my car or shake the grey salty sleet from my shoes every time I stepped outside. There’s a point where it just stops being pretty and starts being… well, like this:

Fortunately, here in Arizona the question, “do you wanna build a snowman?” is an extremely rare occurrence. Unless, you’re in Flagstaff. After weeks of hearing about all of the glorious snow, and being asked if I ever missed winter, I started to. So that’s exactly where we went.  Three hours in the car and we were sledding, making snowballs, breathing the crisp, pine air. We were back home in time to eat dinner outside. In shorts.

Baby B is 13 months today. Here’s a look at his very first snow day:

My Best Parenting Advice


After just one year, I’m still relatively new to this parenting thing so I’m usually on the receiving end of advice. Today as we celebrate my son’s first birthday, I can’t help but reflect back on what we were doing a year ago, watching him open his eyes for the first time, introducing him to the world. We survived the delicacy and sleep deprivation of his newborn months, watched in awe as he learned to roll and crawl, meticulously made his first pureed and solid foods, and before we knew it, he was bulldozing around the house on two feet rearranging the furniture and trying to get cans off kitchen shelves.
He’s a walking, clapping, smiling, laughing, dancing, incredibly loving, adorable toddler.
My advice is short, but important. It’s something I heard so many times from so many parents but never truly felt its magnitude until today: Don’t Blink.
Not just because the blink of an eye is all Baby B needs to stick a piece of dog food in his mouth off the floor, or trip and fall into a bed frame, or spill a full glass of water all over himself and a pile of books.
A year ago he was a tiny, 7-pound squirmy little thing in my arms, who could barely even see. Now, he’s looking and acting more like a little boy every day. Happy birthday, to my baby boy.
At ONE YEAR, baby B likes walking, playing at the playground, eating bananas and waffles and rice, balloons, music, dancing, opening and closing doors and boxes, building block towers and knocking them down, and throwing his ball.
He dislikes naps, staying still, and being told no.